Vicious Cycle
by Maelyn Rey
Summary: Companion piece to Cruel Irony. Yugi walks to school, musing on Yami’s freedom and his fear, and what that makes him do.


**Title: Vicious Cycle  
****Author:** Maelyn  
**Rating:** G—PG because I'm paranoid.  
**Summary:** Companion piece to Cruel Irony. Yugi walks to school, musing on Yami's freedom and his fear, and what that makes him do.  
**Warnings:** No cursing, no sexual innuendo, no graphic violence. In short, none.  
**Disclaimer:** And another joke: A jumper cable walks into a bar. The bartender says, "I'll serve you, but don't start anything."  
**A/N:** This was almost a response-ish entry for the Fear Drabble Challenge on Pharaoh's Hikari. But, like the otherone, it outgrew the limitations.I don't think it's as good, but I don't think it's bad, per se. Just weird . . . . bet you never would have guessed Yugi was even more screwed up than Yami.Hehe. Gosh it's fun when they're being stupid. Oh, and this hasn't been beta'd. I apologize for mistakes. I'll read it over one day and cringe at every single one. Another day, I'll actually do something about them. Review, if it please you.

o/o/o/o/o

Yugi waved back at Yami until he felt his smile slip, the expression wavering towards a frown, and then he turned away and just kept walking, Anzu easily falling into step beside him. His hands gripped both straps of his backpack tightly to keep from shaking, to limit the number of things—places—directions he had to focus on while he made himself walk faster, each step carrying on into the next.

It was kind of like trying to walk down a hill, except the hill was only in his mind and he was actually trying to keep himself from running back up it, which was weird because that should have been easier, to not walk up a hill, especially since he was facing the wrong direction.

"So, big day today, huh, Yugi?"

"Huh?" He had been so busy trying to not look back and see Yami that he had completely forgotten Anzu was with him.

"The tournament? At the Arcade? After school?" She paused after each one, like it was supposed to ring some sort of bell, but it wasn't until the last one that the pieces all fell into place.

"Oh!" He scratched at the back of his neck and grinned sheepishly. "Eh, yea. That, right."

"You forgot."

It wasn't a question so he didn't feel the need to answer, just shrugging a little and looking away. His eyes strayed back towards his house of their own accord, and he didn't even get the chance to start berating himself before he realized they were too far away to see the Game Shop so it didn't matter. And he had forgotten.

Forgotten so much, in fact, that he couldn't even really remember why he had been looking forward to it in the first place. It wasn't like he needed another title, after all—King of Games pretty much summed it up. And it wasn't like he didn't ever get to play games, either, because he and Yami played a lot of games and one couldn't really ask for a better opponent than a game master and expert strategist that still managed to beat him at least half the time and who probably deserved the title more than he did. But there had to have been a reason, right?

"Is Atemu going to come?"

"What?" He blinked at the girl, who frowned at him.

"To the tournament? He said he liked watching you play."

That . . . threw Yugi a lot more than he thought it should. Yami liked watching him play? He didn't know that—or he did, and it was just something he had known, in the back of his mind without actually acknowledging it so that it was weird to finally hear it said. He blinked at expectant blue eyes.

"So is he going?"

"I . . ." he licked his lips. "I didn't ask him."

"You didn't?"

He shook his head without looking at her. He could imagine the look, and he didn't need to actually see it to feel bad. Physically admitting that he hadn't told his other self something made him feel guilty enough, and reasoning it away didn't help.

"Why not?"

Probably because he knew it was bad. He winced. "Because I didn't think he'd want to go."

"You WHAT!"

He winced again. "It's just that after everything we've been through together, it's not going to be very exciting, or even really interesting. The competitors aren't that good. And it's not Duel Monsters and he probably has a bunch of other things he'd rather do. . . ." He trailed off, not entirely certain if he had anything after that, when he caught sight of Anzu's face.

He hadn't seen her look that mad since Jou toilette papered the gym the day of the pep rally it had been their class's responsibility to plan. That had been last year, and even Yami hadn't quite dared to approach her for several hours afterward. Jou had jumped every time he heard her voice for nearly a week. Yugi froze under the glare.

When she spoke, her voice was forced-reasonable, each word biting and precise, like they might burst out of control if she didn't form each one carefully.

"That has got to be the stupidest thing I have ever heard you, Yugi Mutou. How could you ever think, after everything we've been through, that any of us—much less your other self—would not want to be there for you?"

"Eh. . . ?"

"He's just as much your friend as me and Jou and Honda, and for you to even think he'd have better things to do is criminal. You know him better than that."

"I. . . ." He worked his mouth, but the sound had cut off without his permission. Her continued glare didn't help.

She pursed her lips, then leveled him with a hard stare. "So you're going to ask him, right? We can all detour to your house on the way to the Arcade. It won't take too long."

"B-But—I mean . . . I was—no, I . . . but I wasn't, that is. . . ." He looked away, hunched his shoulders against an imaginary blow and spoke really softly, hoping that would help: "I wasn't going to go to the tournament."

"You what—why not?"

Yugi shrugged and didn't answer, didn't look at her.

She was silent for several minutes, long enough for them to go a block, either waiting for him to explain or reasoning the answer for herself from his expression; he wasn't sure which he preferred. Then she said, "Well I think you're making a mistake," and left it at that. They didn't speak the rest of the way to school.

He didn't mind the silence, really, except that it left him alone with his thoughts. And those thoughts wouldn't leave him alone about Yami nearly so easily as Anzu was. It was like being caught in a spider web, every twist and turn and attempt to get free only tangling him more.

Why hadn't he asked Yami to go to the tournament with him? It wasn't because he hadn't planned on going; he had only decided that today, and only because he'd been pressed. He hadn't thought about it much before.

Yugi's eyes scanned over the houses they passed along the opposite side of the street, each looking no different than it had everyday he had passed it for the last four years. Automatically, his thoughts turned inward, searching for the link that tied him to Yami, reaching for it like someone who might turn to an old friend. Only his friend would have died, because the link wasn't there.

His hands spasmed, instinctively releasing the straps to reach for the Puzzle, before he remembered that he didn't have it, that the emptiness inside his mind was normal and didn't mean anything.

But that didn't put him as much at ease as it was supposed to. He was so used to Yami being _there_ that, even after four months, it still felt weird to be separate from him. He had to consciously remind himself that Yami was his own person now, not a spirit trapped in the Millennium Puzzle, and that he had a right to live his own life instead of constantly being dragged around by Yugi's.

It was that idea, that knowledge, lovingly pointed out by his grandfather three months ago, echoed by his friends even before that, that had dictated much of his behavior these last weeks. Because he did forget; and having Yami physically there, he wasn't quite sure how.

But it did. And every time he forgot, he felt guilty—guilty because he was taking advantage of his friend, of the way things had been before, taking time that didn't belong to him any more, if it ever had in the first place. And what if Yami resented it? What if he wouldn't point it out because he believed he had stolen parts of Yugi's life and felt the boy deserved to be paid back by letting him steal parts of his life? And what if when he deemed that debt repaid he just left?

His hands grasped convulsively tighter around his backpack straps, turning white, the only visible reaction save the panic that swirled through his violet orbs. His breath caught, but he forced it away.

Yami was his own person now; if that was what he wanted, Yugi couldn't stop him. He didn't have the right to. But the thought hurt.

And it didn't make the fear go away.

He barely heard as Jou and Honda greeted them at the gate, barely noticed as they walked to class and sat down at their desks. He didn't notice their worried looks or conspiring glances. He only noticed the teacher's arrival because of the silence, and tuned out her lecture shortly after it began.

He put his elbows on his desk and braced his head in his hands, staring dully out the window, lost in his thoughts. He was afraid Yami would leave. That's what it came down to. He was afraid Yami would leave and he couldn't do anything about it because Yami was his own person now and had to make his own decisions.

But sometimes Yami forgot he could do that, just like Yugi sometimes forgot he was his own person, and he had to remind him. Because what kind of friend would he be if he let his best friend stay with him because he forgot he could leave if he wanted to? Yami had been a part of him so long—and trapped in the Puzzle even longer—that he didn't know what he liked to do any more, didn't know what he disliked, didn't know any people or what life was like beyond the single experience of a small, high school boy.

And he deserved to know.

When it came down to it, that was the single conviction that allowed him to push away his fear and his selfishness and do what was best for the spirit. Because after everything he had been through he deserved to know what he could have before he tied himself to a boy who wasn't worthy.

Because worse than the fear that he would leave, was the fear that he would decide to stay, realize what he had given up, and hate Yugi for it. So he pushed him away, wanted him to find his life apart from him, and feared the day when he would find it and go.

Yet everyday, he hoped desperately that Yami would still be there when he got home. And when he was, he was happy, because Yami hadn't left. But because Yami hadn't left, it meant he was still tying himself to Yugi, and he felt guilty.

It was a vicious cycle. And the fear never went away.


End file.
